


December 7th - Regencylock

by ohdrey89



Series: Deductive Deviations [13]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Books, Christmas Eve, Christmas Presents, F/M, Poor Lestrade, Regency, Regency Romance, Sarah (Sherlock TV), Sherlock Holmes & Molly Hooper Friendship, Silver Fox Lestrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 12:22:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5375039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohdrey89/pseuds/ohdrey89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Advent Calendar of Mollstrade (Mollestrade, Lestrolly) continues.</p><p>December 7th - Miss. Molly Hooper enjoys her Christmas Eve alongside her mother and father, when her fiancé comes bearing gifts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	December 7th - Regencylock

**Author's Note:**

> I think I like regency era best but by the end of this you'll be the judge. 
> 
> Disclaimer: We didn't create it, we're not making money from it. But that's not going to stop the ideas from coming, so here we all are anyway. We might as well live.

**December 7th - Colonel Lestrade Arrives on Christmas Eve**

\---

The Hoopers sat in different stages of repose during a merry Christmas Eve. It was a cold December snow that blew against the shutters of the Hooper Cottage but the placid insides of the home were warm and auspicious for the holiday. Holly, pine cones, and dried berries decorated every inch possible and the fireplace before the family was adorned with festive stockings decorated with precise and proficient needlework. It painted quite the lovely picture and Miss. Hooper was proud of her efforts this year at decorating the home alongside her mother. She looked to her parents as her mother wrote a letter most likely to her brother in London before the letter desk, and her father was reading in his favorite chair, while she occupied her time reading Milton.

Her father had long fallen asleep. He did not require much inducement to do so, after a snifter of warm brandy, being wrapped up with his favorite quilt, with his copy of the Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire against his chest that rose and fell with his light snoring. Molly sat before the light of the fire dutifully looking down to her book but she struggled to read any of the words before her. Mrs. Hooper had just completed her letter writing and removed the book from the man’s chest to lay it on the table beside him, without losing her husband’s page. Mother and daughter shared an affectionate smile at finding husband and father thus, as her mother took her place in the chair across from her daughter and pulled out her needlepoint. Molly looked upon the mantelpiece as the clock became later and later, she hadn’t expected her fiancé to show up that evening, but she still maintained hope that he might stop by despite the untimely lateness of the hour. But he had an invitation to be at Hooper Cottage for Christmas Day, and all of his friends were to come as well, the entire party that was in their leisure that winter at Lestrade’s Yard Manor. All things in the cottage were quiet as the clock upon the mantle struck nine and the front door slammed open.

“Who on earth could be calling at this hour?” Mrs. Hooper questioned, as Mr. Hooper snuffled awake.

“Who’s there?” Mr. Hooper looked around the sitting room dazed as he shook off sleep. They found out when the door opened producing one of the servants.

"Colonel Lestrade, sir.” Their man announced allowing the colonel to come into the room.

“Thank you, Stamford.” Mr. Hooper grumbled. Things had been so peaceful before his little Molly had decided to have a suitor. Now the gentleman called at all hours and one never knew whether the absolutely befuddled man was coming or going.

“Thank you, Stamford.” Molly smiled to the man. She couldn’t ignore the eye roll from their loyal houseman. This wasn’t the first time the gentleman showed up well after supper.

“Oh and Stamford, I believe we’ll have some tea. Have Sarah bring the tray.” Mrs. Hooper called to Stamford and the man nodded before he excused himself. The Colonel stood at the entrance to the room and held his hands behind his back.

“I do apologize for calling so late. I had some business to attend to in Devon and just wanted to stop by before returning home for the night.” The Colonel apologized coming to sit next to Molly upon the settee. The Colonel sent a heated glance in Molly’s direction causing the most attractive creature to delicately blush. The Colonel was no longer in active duty and as such was wearing his own clothes. He was in a handsome navy blue coat with a deep purple waste coat. The complicated knot of his cravat complimented his twinkling brown eyes that Molly had come to associate with mischief. He admired the way the curls fell out of Molly’s complicated braided coif, the lace that decorated her décolletage and the forest green of her velvet dress that brought out her honey brown eyes.

“If only you had arrived sooner, we would have asked you to stay for dinner!” Mrs. Hooper offered.

“For the fourth time this week.” Mr. Hooper muttered to himself as he picked up the paper instead of his book. The tea was served by their maid. “Thank you, Sarah.” Mr. Hooper muttered excusing the girl for the evening. She poured and began passing out the tea.

“Perhaps Sarah could see if the cook could find a small meal for you Colonel?” Mrs. Hooper offered.

“Oh no, Mrs. Hooper, please this is hospitality enough. I had a meal before leaving Devon.” Colonel Lestrade assured thanking Sarah as he was handed his cup. Their maid curtsied and left the family and guest to their tea.

“So Colonel, what brings you to our fair cottage this Christmas Eve? You’ve already made off with my daughter, I can’t imagine what else you might be needing from me.” Mr. Hooper inquired sipping his tea.

“Father.” Molly scolded in warning with a blush, though she smiled as Lestrade took her hand.

“Indeed, I could not ask you for anything more than my wonderful Molly. She is by far your finest jewel.” Lestrade smiled to Molly as he kissed her knuckles and met Molly’s eyes over her hand.

“Oh Colonel, how dashing.” Mrs. Hooper blushed fanning herself as she became overwhelmed by Lestrade’s gallantry.

“Yes, rather.” Mr. Hooper grumbled in annoyance rolling his eyes. The colonel was always very gallant.

“But you see that’s why I bring gifts for you all this Christmas Eve.” Lestrade announced with a proud smile. Each gift was carefully wrapped as Lestrade retrieved them from inside his pockets.

“I have something for you as well, I’ll go and get it.” Molly announced, her green velvet dress dancing behind her as she left the room. Lestrade watched her retreated form before watching his new family opening his gifts.

“Oh French perfume! How marvelous!” Mrs. Hooper gushed opening the bottle to smell it. “How divine!” Mrs. Hooper rose laughing from her seat to kiss the Colonel upon the cheek. “Thank you dear boy.” Lestrade smiled as he watched Mr. Hooper open his gift.

“New tobacco. And a copy of Plato.” Mr. Hooper cleared his throat as he tried not to become overwhelmed with too much emotion. If this was to be a sign of the offerings from his new son-in-law, the man would hardly have a fight from Mr. Hooper. “Thank you, Colonel.”

“You’re welcome sir, I hope you enjoy them both.” Lestrade looked to the man with a smile.

“Thank you, I do believe I will.” Mr. Hooper chuckled happily, refilling his pipe with the new tobacco he was given.

Mr. Hooper was puffing away happily as Mrs. Hooper continued her needlepoint. Molly returned with her hands behind her back. She met Lestrade’s gaze and he noticed the shy look in her eyes that begged they have some privacy. “Um…” Lestrade started to get the attention of her parents. “If you wouldn’t mind, Molly and I might take a turn this evening in the garden behind the house. There is something I would like to discuss with her.” Lestrade ask politely.

“Certainly Colonel, only Molly dear, wrap up warm. We wouldn’t want you catching a cold before the holiday celebrations tomorrow.” Mrs. Hooper admonished. Both Molly and Lestrade went into the hallway and put on their winter outer garments without a word spoken between them. Glances that were shared spoke where they were not allowed the liberty to speak freely.

Once in the garden, Lestrade pulled off his scarf to wrap it around Molly’s throat. “Don’t want you to become chilled.” Lestrade uttered with a gravel in his voice that sent shivers down Molly’s spine. He ran a thumb along her delicate cheekbones with a worried glance. “Cold?” He inquired. At the shake of her head, Lestrade lowered his head to hers and captured Molly’s lips with her own. He groaned into the kiss as Molly’s fingers dug their way into the silver hair that she couldn’t help but find devastatingly handsome. When Lestrade pulled away he smiled a crooked, boyish grin at the dazed look upon Molly’s face.

“Was that my gift?” Molly questioned with a serene smile. The blush upon her cheeks had nothing to do with the cold. Lestrade held Molly close as their breath intermingled upon the cold air with each stolen breath.

“Not at all. Will I get my gift as well?” Lestrade questioned with a flirtatious lift of his brow.

“Of course.” Molly smiled producing the package from the pocket of her coat. Lestrade did the same.

“You first, Molly.” Lestrade smiled holding onto his gift patiently as he watched Molly tear into the paper and box that held her own. Molly gasped when she beheld it. A handsome leather bound book was in her hands. Molly reverently ran her hands around the cover and flipped it open to the dust jacket.

“Oh, Gregory. Frankenstein; or the Modern Prometheus! The copies of this are on back order until next Michaelmas! However could you come across a copy?” Molly looked to her fiancé with amazed bright eyes.

“Would you believe me if I said I knew Percy Shelley and his wife Mary? Percy was a friend of mine and I knew his wife just before I went off to the war. My parents traveled in very eccentric circles and the Shelleys were no different. I spent many summers with Percy, he was a close friend of mine before my military career. When I wrote to them of my struggles to find a copy, in a week I had one in my hands.” Lestrade looked out upon the snowy downs fondly in memory.

“And it’s inscribed by the authoress herself.” Molly gasped, seeing the leaf before the beginning of the book held the sweeping hand of the Mary Shelley. She fell upon the cold stone bench in shock. Never before had a writer inscribed their book for her.

“I can’t believe she did that.” Greg groaned wondering what she must have written to his future wife about. The moon was high and bright enough to read by.

“She writes: ‘Dear Molly, I hope you enjoy this little adventure of mine and that you enjoy the adventure of marriage with our Gregory. I know you shall be an improvement upon his previous relations and I hope to meet you one day. Congratulations and Merry Christmas. Yours &etc. Mary.’ What does she mean by ‘previous relations,’ Gregory?” Molly questioned confused and her eyes filled with trepidation.

Lestrade was facing away from Molly and ran his hand through his hair and down his face in frustration. “I did not mean for you to find out this way.” Lestrade grumbled into the silence that fell between them. Molly watched him, as Lestrade paced before her.

“I know Gregory, but at the very least as we will one day soon be husband and wife we should be honest with each other.” Molly encouraged as Gregory still paced, pulling inward towards introspection as his thoughts warred within him. Molly stepped up behind her beloved and took his tanned hand into her own pale, delicate one. He turned to her with a pained expression, clearly riddled with misgivings at what he would have to explain to her. “I trust you, Gregory. I always have and I always will. Please tell me what everyone has been whispering about, that they won’t tell me.” Molly met his eye and Lestrade nodded, taking a breath to calm himself.

“I am not married, Molly. You must believe me, I came to you a gentleman, free to take the bans. But I have been married before.” Lestrade explained.

“Yes? And you’re widowed?” Molly encouraged the Colonel to explain.

“No, I am divorced.” Greg confirmed. He listened to Molly’s sharp intake of breath as she covered her mouth with her hands, absorbing the validation of all the rumors, all the suspicions. Many women would have ended engagements with gentlemen for lesser transgressions, but Molly could only find shock at the discovery.

For years, Colonel Lestrade made himself a constant of her company and many wondered why it was until now that they became engaged, but Molly refused to believe the gossip, and bid her time waiting for Lestrade to tell her the truth. Now it stood before her, a black chasm of the unknown, but on the other side of it was Lestrade standing before her his arms waiting to embrace her, his heart and devotion only for her. Molly felt the courage and a small sparkle of hope well up with in her. They could get beyond this, Molly just wanted her fiancé to trust her with the truth.

“It is true then.” Molly’s brow knitted with concern for what this meant.

“Rumors I suppose,” Greg grumbled frustrated, and at her nod Greg shook his head, his jaw working in anger at being the subject of village gossip.

“Mr. Holmes. Sherlock- and Dr. Watson, well… Sherlock hinted at it several times, something you weren’t telling me and Dr. Watson would always stop him, scolded him really. I believe he just wanted me to be on my guard.” Molly blushed at the supposition that she had listened to idle gossip. However, both Lestrade and Molly knew that nothing about Sherlock’s gossip would ever be idle. The man knew all and it would be foolish to deny it.

“I know not where she is now, or what she’s doing and I care not.” Greg’s back became rigid in anger. “You must understand I was not unfaithful, and I never hurt my wife, or drank to access, or even gambled. I gave her no reason to be displeased with me.” Greg growled angrily as he turned away. The memories clearly gave him pain, for Molly had never seen such agony in the Colonel’s eyes before. When he tried to walk passed her, Molly grabbed onto his hand with her own, and Greg squeezed it in gratitude for the stability it gave him. He ran a thumb along where he felt her engagement ring.

“But she was displeased?” Molly questioned at the oddity of it all.

“Oh yes, she was very dissatisfied.” Lestrade growled pensively. “I married her at my family’s behest before I left for war. An insurance policy even though I was the second son. I was pointed in her direction, as I was pointed in the direction of taking a commission in the army, and my eldest brother inherited the position of cabinet minister from my father even though I desired it and was meant for it from the day I was born. He was allowed to marry as he chose and I was politely introduced to Miss. Cassandra Wrenfield. Her family had made money in trade but became landed gentry sure enough as they bought their position in society. She had a large dowry and it would prop up my family’s struggling position.” Greg sighed filled with regret. “I saw her when I could but I was a young captain; and only through the good graces of the generals my family socialized with was I able to climb the ranks as fast as I could. The medals and heroism did the rest and made the Colonel you see before you. But when the war was over… All I had left to show for it was a redcoat, a chest of medals and a ruined marriage. I came home and it was like I didn’t know my own wife anymore, or myself.” Greg growled in anger looking to Molly with eyes pleading for her to understand. Molly looked up to him and pulled his hand that was threaded through hers to her chest. The steady thrum of her heart pulled him towards her. He laid his forehead onto hers and let out the breath he had been holding. “She despised me, and slept with half of the men in town. I-I tried. I didn’t want to do that to her, abandon her and drag our marriage through the mire of divorce and I refused to, until she demanded it of me.” Greg’s brow clouded over with the painful memories, and Molly could see it in the weary cragginess of his face she had thought devastatingly romantic, the anger of betrayal, the misery of the longing and loneliness he had held onto for years and how it weighed on him. “Only then did I grant it and the process took years. And I secluded myself here to Devon, to Baker Street House. Took employment as the local magistrate until I was able to establish myself at the Yard Manor. That was about the time when I met you.” Greg smiled, pulling away to look at Molly running his warm thumb along her chilled, rosy cheek.

“That was why you were so distant for so long even though you were friends with Sherlock and Dr. Watson.” Greg watched the recognition the reason of his distant attitude for so long finally dawned upon her.

“It wasn’t for my lack of wanting you, Molly. I do, more than I thought I ever would want another woman again.” He kissed her then as the air between them electrified. Greg had to clear his throat with a grumble before he could continue. “I had to wait until my former marriage was broken and I was free. But I- I couldn’t keep myself from you, even though I tried- I couldn’t stay away.” Greg’s boyish smile sent a quake through her.

“And that’s why Sherlock thought to warn me.” Molly muttered as it ended on a whimper. Now she knew why, the heated passion between them was palpable and if Molly had been less on her guard with someone of lesser character than Lestrade, she could have been in trouble. She was very lucky being in love with such a splendid man and it only made her love him more. Lestrade looked to her then, gauging her reaction to all that he had revealed to her. “Open your Christmas gift then.” Molly encouraged with a private smile Greg knew was reserved just for him.

He pulled at the ribbons and opened the box. “My pocket watch!” Greg laughed wondering what his silly future wife could mean by gifting him something he already owned.

“I might have begged Sherlock to pick-pocket it for me. Is it a crime for Sherlock to pick-pocket the local magistrate for his fiancée?” Molly questioned sheepishly and smiled at her fiancé’s chuckle. “Well does it look any different?” Molly questioned knowingly. Greg turned it over and the back of it was engraved, ‘For Eternity at Last, Your Loving Molly.’ Greg felt his eyes sting as he opened the watch. Inside where the picture of his previous wife had laid, it now was a miniature – and a very good one – of Molly. The artist had managed to capture that special light within her eyes that told him of her love for her Colonel. Molly looked to Greg expectantly and he answered her questioned gaze with a heated kiss that took her breath away.

“Thank you.” Greg smiled, his face now once again content and his eyes shines with happiness. “Shall we go inside so I can view this lovely portrait of my future wife properly?” Greg waggled his eyebrows as he pulled Molly closer. Molly smiled serenely even as she rolled her eyes at her fiancé’s antics. She chuckled at him.

“I can’t wait for the spring!” Molly sighed as they left the cold snowy countryside for the warmth of cottage inside.

\---

**Author's Note:**

> [Reblog](http://ohdrey89.tumblr.com/post/134731291423/december-7th-colonel-lestrade-arrives-on) this for me on tumblr. Spread the word.
> 
> I admit I do Regency era very well, but its my favorite. If we could keep the clothes the romance but the modern medicine & feminism I'd be a happy girl.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are our currency of love, spread the wealth around.


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